Vidya Makan’s story begins with her Indian roots and a South African connection that shaped her early life. Born in Queensland to Gujarati parents who migrated from apartheid-era South Africa, Makan grew up with a cultural inheritance that was both rich and complex.
Her mother sang her lullabies in Xhosa. “While my bloodline is completely Gujarati Indian, culturally, South African influences shaped my childhood too,” she reflects. “But I’m also a true-blue Aussie gal.”
It is from this intersection of identities—Indian, South African, and Australian—that Makan, known for her acclaimed roles in Hamilton and SIX, has created her debut musical The Lucky Country.
At a time when Australia has seen marches amplifying anti-immigration rhetoric, her work arrives as a bold and tender response: a celebration of belonging, identity, and the messy, joyous patchwork of what it means to be Australian.
From Sydney on Zoom and ahead of The Lucky Country’s run in Melbourne and Brisbane this October, Makan tells The Indian Sun, “More than anything, especially right now, I feel like our nation is in need of a warm hug. It’s in need of something we can all engage with in a joyous, loving, beautiful way. And that is exactly what this show gives.”
Makan’s inspiration for The Lucky Country came in 2018. An avid lover of musical theatre, she noticed the glaring absence of people like herself on stage. “I’m an Indian woman, and I couldn’t find a place in this industry that was truthful to being of the Indian diaspora and being Australian,” she says. “I didn’t see that reflected in the musicals I was watching.”
The show is a direct response to that absence.

So, Makan began writing songs that explored what Australian identity meant to her. Early collaborator Sonya Suares expanded her vision, reminding her that what she was attempting was larger than her own story. “She said, ‘You’re talking about nationhood, and that is massive.’”
Each song in The Lucky Country sounds like it comes from a different musical universe: a Baker Boy-inspired number sits beside a playful nod to Kylie Minogue, a track alluding to The Seekers is followed by one echoing Archie Roach. There’s even a tongue-in-cheek number called Hugh Jackman, in which Makan’s Indian-Australian character gleefully improvises Hindi lines on a movie set.
“It’s funny, it’s silly, it’s camp. I wanted us to be able to tell the jokes, not just be the butt of them,” she says.
This fearless energy is something she traces back to an unexpected source: her childhood dream of being a Matilda. “You know, I’ve never been asked that before!” she says when asked about the link between sport and art. “The playfulness, the willingness to go out and get messy… that spirit has definitely stayed with me. That part of me is still very much alive in what I do now.”
The show collaborated with First Nations artists, including cultural collaborator Chenoa Deemal. “Her sharing of her culture has made me understand my own culture so much more. To learn from people who’ve been telling stories here for over 65,000 years—that’s been such a gift.”

With Australia again confronting questions of belonging and exclusion, the show’s themes feel more pressing than ever.
“Our first season was in 2023—the year of the referendum and the “no” campaign—so it felt really urgent then. We recorded a cast album, released it this year, and wanted to get the show back on stage. Sometimes I think, oh, maybe we missed the boat because of those conversations, but when you look at what’s happening right now, it feels more urgent than ever.”
Crucially, this isn’t a show about trauma. It’s about joy, silliness, and agency. “I wanted us to be able to tell the jokes. I wanted to play a character who’s Indian-Australian and not have to be the butt of the joke—I got to make the jokes, I got to write the jokes.”
As The Lucky Country prepares to open at the Melbourne Fringe Festival (13-18 Oct) and Brisbane’s Melt Festival (22-26 Oct), Makan guarantees her audience will feel found.
“The climate right now can make people feel very lost. Our show will hold you, and we will gift you with something you won’t experience in any other theatrical production,” she says. “I’m very proud to say that, and you can hold me to it.”
In a divided moment, Makan is composing Australia’s new soundtrack—full of joy and harmony.
Connect with Indira Laisram on X
Support independent community journalism. Support The Indian Sun.
Follow The Indian Sun on X | Instagram | Facebook
Support Independent Community Journalism
Dear Reader,The Indian Sun exists for one reason: to tell stories that might otherwise go unheard.
We report on local councils, state politics, small businesses and cultural festivals. We focus on the Indian diaspora and the wider multicultural community with care, balance and accountability. We publish in print and online, send regular newsletters and produce video content. We also run media training programs to help community organisations share their own stories.
We operate independently.
Community journalism does not have the backing of large media corporations. Advertising revenue fluctuates. Platform algorithms change. Costs continue to rise. Yet the need for credible, grounded reporting in a multicultural Australia has never been greater.
When you support The Indian Sun, you support:
• Independent reporting on issues affecting migrant communities
• Coverage of local and state decisions that shape daily life
• A platform for small businesses and community groups
• Media training that builds skills within the community
• Journalism accountable to readers
We cannot cover everything, but we work to cover what matters.
If you value thoughtful reporting that reflects Australia’s diversity, we invite you to contribute. Every donation helps us maintain the quality and consistency of our work.
Please consider making a contribution today.
Thank you for your support.
The Indian Sun Team











